


I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me

by nemiolo



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 17:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nemiolo/pseuds/nemiolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>07/01/2015, Atlético - Real Madrid. Sergio is still angry after the game and Fernando wants to be with him again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me

**Author's Note:**

> HI!!!!!!!!!! This is my first attempt to write a fic in english. If you guys want to beta-read it, please do it! I really need to improve my English skills.  
> I've missed these two a lot, trust me. I bet they missed each other a whole lot more, to be honest haha  
> Is it too fluffy? I don't know. I'm just tired of angst and stuff, so maybe yeah, it's too fluffy.

“Can you please, _please_ wait for me in your locker room?”  
Sergio doesn't wanna wait, really; he's tired and angry and he wants to go home and hold his son and sing him a lullaby because that's the only thing that can actually calm him down. He doesn't reply to the text. 

The Calderón is empty. Atlético's players have left, Madrid's players have left. Everybody left. Fernando Torres is still there.  
He takes his time, this is the first match back in Madrid in, like, forever. And he wants to breathe the air of his stadium, how it smells after a win, after two goals to Real Madrid.  
He also wants to see Sergio and to kiss him hard in a locker room, but that's another story.

Fernando opens the door and doesn't know if Sergio is still there, waiting for him. Maybe he's too angry and he came back home without even saying goodbye, maybe - _probably_ \- he doesn't wanna spend another minute into Atleti's stadium, after the loss. Maybe he doesn't wanna see Fernando, now that is a _coclchonero_ again.  
He turns on the lights and Sergio is there. He's sitting on a bench, head in his hands and looks at him when he hears his footsteps.  
“Fernando,” he only says his name, then Sergio doesn't talk anymore and Fernando neither, because they're kissing like they haven't seen each other for months and maybe years. And, of course, that's not true because Sergio is the very first person Fernando has seen once back in Madrid.  
Sergio caresses Fernando's hair and then he bites his neck, “I'm still mad at you and at your damn team.”  
“Yeah, I've seen your anger on the pitch. You should calm down, Sergio.”  
“Ok, well, I'm not getting into this argument with you. Not right now.”  
“So,” Fernando smirks, “What do you wanna do with me _right now_?”  
Sergio gives him his biggest smile and then kisses Fernando's lips again. He loves when Fernando is such a teaser and Fernando obviously loves to tease Sergio. Almost ten years into this relationship and they perfectly know every thought of each other, every reaction, every inch of their bodies.

“You know what I want to do,” Sergio's voice is just a whisper, “I want to put your team on a spaceship and send them to Uranus.”  
Fernando stops and looks at Sergio, “Are you serious? You are _that_ mad?”  
“Yes,” and Sergio is deadly serious. He doesn't even smile. He's still holding Fernando's hand though.  
“Am I going to Uranus with them?” Fernando smirks, trying to decide if Sergio is ready for jokes and smiles or if it is better for him to walk away really fast.  
Sergio doesn't answer for a few seconds, then he says “No,” and Fernando smiles again and tries to reach Sergio's lips for a kiss but Sergio is talking again. “You're not going to Uranus with them because I'll kidnap you and you'll be my slave for the rest of your life.”  
Sergio laughs and kisses Fernando's nose. Fernando looks concerned, just a bit, but as soon as Sergio moves his lips on his neck and then on his hands and then again on his shoulder and-- as soon as all these things happen, Fernando is relaxed again. 

They're still inside the Calderón but the stadium doesn't exist, Atléti doesn't exist, Real Madrid doesn't exist, the whole city doesn't exist anymore. Only Sergio and Fernando exist, in that locker room, like the old times. There are no colors, everything is in black and white. There are no noises, just their voices and their whispers and their moanings.  
One hour later or maybe two or maybe the day after, Sergio will be angry again at the Calderón and at the team that call that place _home_. But not now. Because now, in his head, nothing exists. _Now_ only Fernando Torres - and their love and their passion and everything about them - exist.


End file.
